


I Almost Do

by Rae_Saxon



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: And I like Thirteen being a sub so deal with it, Because I know you all think Thirteen is a top, F/M, PWP with Fluff, Public Sex, top!master
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:15:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23740675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae_Saxon/pseuds/Rae_Saxon
Summary: The Doctor just wanted to hang at a beach. Everyone has their shirt off at a beach. She always had her shirt off at a beach. Apparently there are differences now that she's a woman. The Master is more than happy to tell her all about it. After the sex.
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 134





	I Almost Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VaultOfMelkurMistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaultOfMelkurMistress/gifts).



> I was peacefully playing Animal Crossing when my best friend asked me to write a second Thirteen/Dhawan beach story, how COULD I say no? And not built in all the kinks we gave Thirteen in our RP? Exactly. Here it is.

The Doctor was lying on the beach, enjoying the peace and quiet with her eyes closed. Sun was shining down on her skin, making her feel comfortable and relaxed, the wind blowing gently over the beachside cooling her off perfectly and the smell of salt water embracing her like an old, familiar friend.

She had always liked beaches. Lost a bit of her fascination with them in her tenth incarnation, due to.... circumstances. But this was a sunny beach full of happiness. In the distance she could hear children scream and squeak in excitement, not far behind her the reassuring “pop” of two people playing beach tennis.

People around her were murmuring, a few louder voices carrying a bit more aggression than she would've liked, but she tried her best to simply blur it out and enjoy her break, rest a little.

She so deserved a holiday.

“Doesn't she know people don't do that here?” some of the voices asked harshly. “There are children here, for God's sake!”

The Doctor opened an eye with a blink, unable to contain her curiosity. She.... had never been particular good at resting in the first place. Usually entailed too much rest.

To her surprise, the person everyone in her close proximity was angrily muttering and staring at, was... well... her.

Oh no, what had she done now?

An uncertain laugh escaped her. “Something wrong, ladies?”

They shook their heads, but had suddenly fallen quiet, seemingly trying to avoid the confrontation as they turned away from her again, facing back to the ocean.

Only sensible, the Doctor thought. Much more to see with the ocean. Endless widths, the distant dreams of what lay behind the horizon, gentle waves slowly speeding up, getting more dangerous, ripping away everything in their wake... She could spend a whole day staring at the ocean dreamily. It reminded her of Gallifrey, of lying awake all night, staring up to the stars, making get-away plans.

Talking about watching the horizon...

A grinning, all-too familiar face plopped up in her direct view, blocking the ocean from her. The Doctor was taken aback for only a second, then a grumpy, disapproving nose crunch appeared on her face.

“You. What are _you_ doing here?” she snapped at the Master, who simply giggled, his eyes glued to somewhere beneath her face, where.... well, why was he staring at her chest like that? That was just rude.

“Just enjoying the view, Doctor. Didn't have a top at hand? I would think one of your pets had left something in your TARDIS. You know how dogs are. Always marking their territory.”

The Doctor frowned.

“What are you talking about?”

That seemed to wipe the Master's mocking grin right off his face and he looked down on her in confusion, before letting out a loud, short laugh.

“You... you noticed you're... not wearing a shirt, right? You're naked from the top.”

“Course I am, everyone is!”

She made a quick gesture towards the other occupants of the beach, meeting some fleeting, quickly averting eyes as she did, and paused.

Actually, no, not everyone was. But still pretty much every second person, so what did it matter?

“I've never worn shirts on the beach,” the Doctor added with a little sulk, her voice now going quieter.

The Master shook his head, smirking, his lips pressed together, visibly trying to stop himself from laughing.

“You've never been a woman before, Doctor.”

“A woman? What's that to do with...”

But the Doctor finally noticed the pattern. Right. The other people on the beach without tops on were.... well... men.

“But that's... stupid,” she muttered, her arm sinking down to the sand next to her sun chair, mindlessly clawing for her rainbow striped shirt. “Men have chests too, why are they allowed to show them and I'm not?”

“You caught the wrong time,” the Master smirked, letting himself fall into the sand and grabbing her shirt out of reach just when she had felt the fabrics at her fingertips, twisting it in his hands thoughtfully. “Same place, bit later and no one would've bat an eyelash. Humans are still learning.”

“Well, you sure know your way,” she remarked with a raised eyebrow, leaning forwards to try and tear her shirt from his hands. He dashed back to his feet and out of her reach and she could see his eyes wander down hungrily, watching the bouncing of her breasts.

“Spent quite a lot of time on this planet, thanks to your little stunt, or did you already forget?” the Master huffed, standing a step away from her now, her shirt still tightly in his grasp and his little smirk steadily growing. “And if my time here taught me anything, then about all of their little prejudices.”

“Will you just give me that?” she asked, suddenly very aware of all the people's heads turning towards them. Her skin tingled, and heat wandered up her cheeks and down her shoulders. Must be a sunburn. Surely.

The Master gave her a crooked grin, pretending not to have heard her.

“So, does that mean all this time you've been travelling without a bra? Tut tut, Doctor, how naughty. Seems like I truly missed out.”

“Missed out what?” the Doctor hissed back, trying another jump towards the Master, but he avoided her skilfully, dancing perfectly through the towels in the sand, until a very red, sleeping man snored between them, his swim trunks getting lost in the masses of his slowly sun-burning belly. “I wouldn't have let you touch me with or without bra.”

Something glittered in the Master's eyes, devious and challenging.

“Please,” he snorted. “I could make you fall into the sand before me and beg me to have you right here and now, in front of all of these people.”

“You could not!” she blurted out, trying to sound indignant and not.... well, whatever that warm, almost hot feeling was that spread in her belly and below... Oh, it was arousal, wasn't it? Damn her new body and the new roles and rules and new kinks. It could be fun, exploring herself again and again, re-inventing herself, getting a sort of soft reset, a new start to get things right.

Not so much when she was in the middle of the crowded beach, topless, realising she would.... very much like to be topped right now.

By the _Master_ of all people.

He'd be smug about this for centuries.

“So could,” he smirked. “You're into it, I've seen it in your eyes. When you were kneeling before me, in front of all these people, watching.” He had stepped closer, his face so close to hers now she could taste his breath on her lips. It tasted so familiar, so like him, it made her eyes water with a sudden longing.

“You never answered me,” she breathed, her shirt forgotten, even though it was right there now, she would only have to move her pinky finger to reach it. “What are you doing here?”

The Master chuckled.

“You, hopefully, soon.”

Well, that was direct. Maybe the first time he hadn't lied to her, too.

The Doctor gulped.

“Not here.”

“Shy?” the Master smirked, his voice lowered along with hers. She wasn't sure when they had switched to Gallifreyan (she hoped early in this conversation), but she could tell from the confused looks around them that no one was understanding a word of what they were saying to each other.

Well, _good_.

For the best, really.

“I'm not shy, I'm never shy,” she burst out, before her brain could catch up with her to tell her “bad idea, bad plan, don't say that, don't ever say that to him” and before she could tell her brain to shut up, he had bridged the last bit of distance between their faces, pressing his lips against her, devouring and hungry and hot from the sun against hers.

The Doctor flinched, but within seconds, he had clouded her mind and she pulled him closer, her hands running through his surprisingly soft hair as she kissed him back just as hungrily, every clear thought forgotten. She could feel her nipples press against the soft fabric of his waistcoat, felt them harden beneath the light touch, and in turn, he let his hands wander down the side of her breasts and to her back, pressing her even tighter against himself.

There was entirely indignant muttering around her and, finally, a very raised women's voice sharply announced to them that there were still children around.

The Doctor blinked, her cloud of blind, unrelenting lust lifting enough for her to see the Master's wide grin in front of her, as he took a step back and let her catch her breath.

“Oh,” she finally breathed, finally remembering where she was and what they were doing. “Uhm...”

“Told you,” he remarked with amusement audible in his voice. “Didn't even take a minute.”

“I was not begging...” the Doctor insisted and the Master's grin broadened when her tone lingered for a second, they both hearing the unspoken “yet” as clearly between them as if it had been voiced.

He handed her her shirt and she slipped it over gratefully, frowning down at her very insistent nipples still poking through the fabric.

Treacherous little things, those.

The Master's lips twitched in amusement.

“Let's get out of here,” he suggested and she thought that through. She had quite enjoyed her sun bath. She had really deserved a little break. He really did not deserve sex.

... However, half the beach was now glaring at them and she really did not care about what he deserved or not right now, and so she simply grabbed her coat and boots, pulled her suspenders up and sighed.

“Let's go then. Your TARDIS. I'm not letting you anywhere near mine.”

She probably shouldn't be surprised that he had parked his TARDIS, disguised as a beach bar, right next to hers, so close in fact, that she wouldn't have been able to walk in between them. The second they had reached their ships, he had grabbed her by the hips and crashed against her TARDIS wall.

He placed kisses down her neck and her shoulder blades, his beard tickling her and when he grinned knowingly, she felt it before she saw it, when he looked up, his eyes glittering.

“Not anywhere near her, hm?”

“Don't be petty.” But she couldn't help the little smile appearing on her face. “Shut up and just kiss me.”

“Quite demanding...” The Master bit down gently, right in the crook of her neck and the Doctor moaned. “... for someone who's still out in the open.”

She turned her head, looking around, and of course he was right. People were walking by, giving them occasional glances, studying the elaborate menu of the Master's fake beach bar, and she sighed heavily as she felt herself getting wet.

It was a pain, this new body.

“Just get on with it,” she hissed and felt the vibrations of the Master's chuckle against her neck, before he began kissing her again, his hands wandering now. She felt his hand slipping into the waistband of her trousers, stretching out her suspenders playfully, without actually loosening them, his lips now seeking hers again. She gasped, sharp breath filling her lungs, before she managed to kiss him back, as his fingers teasingly played around the aching spot between her legs.

“Pl... please,” she whispered and the Master chuckled again, but let his finger slide into her entrance as a reward and God, she was so slick now as she pushed against the finger wantonly, needing more, needing _him_. None of it mattered anymore, her begging, him being right and her being wrong, all the aspects she lied to herself about, the people around them and whether they took notice of him or not, pressing against the wall of a blue phone box, hands in her pants.

All that mattered was...

“ _More_... please... please!”

“What's that, love?” he asked, nibbling at her earlobe and the Doctor moaned desperately.

“Master!”

“That's right,” he chuckled, adding another finger, before unbuttoning his own trousers, just a bit, just enough to get out his cock and she moaned at the sight, seeing stars for a second, as she immediately felt drawn to it, held out her hands, stroking it eagerly.

The Master moaned in turn, slumping against her, chin on her shoulder, eyes closed in bliss. He let her suspenders slip off her shoulders, one after another, then pulled down her trousers enough for entrance. She let go almost reluctantly as he lined himself up, thrusting into her probingly.

“Please...” it tumbled from her lips, not sure what exactly she was begging for, until she felt him speeding up his pace, his thrusts getting harder and faster and she realised: This, this was what she had wanted. He pressed tightly against her, ramming her back against the wall with every thrust, and she grabbed his ass, raking her fingernails into the fabrics of his trousers to keep them up.

People around them turned their heads, then quickly turned away, hastening down the promenade to get away and she laughed, breathlessly, before his next thrust made her see stars again. Arching her back, the Doctor let her head fall against the blue wall of her TARDIS, mouth agape and eyes fluttering shut, as his name fell from her lips again, but different now, older, more familiar yet strange on this new tongue, which had never spoken it before, and he kissed her in return, leaving her wondering if it was to shut her up or out of the longing that came from the sound of it.

She came with a cry, not daring to say his name anymore, even if she could have, in that moment, formed a coherent word, and he followed shortly after, his warm release running down her legs and into her pants. He smirked as he pulled out, regarding his mess for a few seconds.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, kissing her surprisingly soft, before fixing his own outfit again, which somehow had not gotten a single stain.

Typical.

The Doctor winced, but pulled up her trousers provisorily, glad to be so close to her own TARDIS and a shower.

She raised a hand, pointing behind her shoulder with her thumb. “Do you want to...”

“Nah,” the Master interrupted her, a little too quickly to sound carefree. “I got what I wanted. I'll be off to...”

“It doesn't have to be this way,” she hastily threw in. She had just gotten him back, gotten something different than hate and rage and brokenness out of him for the first time in a long time. “A quickie against a wall and then separate ways again, we don't always have to do this, you know?”

“Don't be an idiot, Doctor,” he replied, his soft smile perfectly contradicting his harsh words. “We tried it the other way and it didn't work, did it?”

“At least we tried, back then,” she replied quietly. “It's the only way to ever gain anything, trying.”

“All I gained was false hope and two broken hearts,” he hissed back, the smile disappearing from his face like someone had hit a switch. “I need no bonus round, thank you.”

“One night then,” she sighed, holding open her door invitingly. “One night with just us. No games, no locks, no attempts to change the other. You and me, in a bed, holding each other. Don't tell me that's not what you want.”

The Master snorted.

“Of course that's what I want.”

“Then come on in.” She gave him a smile, hoping it looked reassuring, no matter how shaky it felt, but the Master gently shook his head.

“If I do this, it means I'm going to have to leave again, did you ever consider that?”

“But you just said...”

“You've no idea, have you?” he growled. “How hard it is to walk away from you, Doctor?”

She stared at him, stunned.

“I... well... Personally, I never walked away from myself. Well, once, but I got around again in the end.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Come on in,” he finally sighed, holding the door open with an arm above her head, pushing her inside.

“I hate to repeat myself,” the Doctor replied with a frown as she stumbled inside her TARDIS. “But you just said...”

The Master kissed the back of her neck as he walked in behind her, smiling gently.

“... How hard it is to walk away from you, precisely. So I'll just try again tomorrow.”

With a grin and a shake of her head in disbelief, she turned around to take his hands, leading him in as he let the door fall shut behind him with his foot. She didn't turn around once, as she led him to her bedroom backwards, running over two lamps, a hat stand and a pile of books - all noted by him with a shake of his head, but she had absolutely noticed he had not warned her once.

When they finally made it to her bed, more or less uninjured and the Doctor cleaned up, she simply pulled him into her arms, holding him tightly, holding him through the tension, holding him as he finally calmed a little, his arms clawing at hers to pull her closer, his head resting on her chest and his breathing slowing. She wasn't sure how long it had been, for him, to have been held like this at all. Missy, surely, hadn't had much intimacy and the Doctor knew that was her own fault more than anyone else's.

She should've never done this to them. All these years spent in loneliness. She thought about the Master's bitter words earlier at the beach, about the 77 years he had spent alone on Earth, stuck, the racism he must've had experienced. She had hoped to teach him something, then, about blindly thinking to be better than anyone else, about the company he had kept, but deep in her hearts she had known from the very beginning how very, very wrong she had been.

All she could do now was hold him, show him he wasn't alone in the universe. She couldn't make it easier for him to walk away, but maybe, just maybe, if she just tried enough, held him tight enough, kissed him soft enough, he would one day find it easier to come back.


End file.
